So many puddles;
There are the puddles of your planet,
There is an atmosphere of elements in vapors which puddle,
There is a heliosphere which puddles from forces like gravity -
So many degrees,
It staggers the mind to think.

Like oceans which ripple.
Like Electric arcing.
Like blades of grass growing.

Kronos to Atys,
Time to Humans;
Never reaching to grasp their true Nature,
Compassion & Patience.

Only when the waters recede
Is ever there patience,
Only when they flood
Is there ever compassion.

For you compromise all balance
And so you comprise limited liberation.

For, as you all 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 to be,
You are unworthy.

There is some in-between
Which I do not post 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

But I digress.

You all who are mortal,
You who reincarnate.

You have had your eclipses;
You, the reincarnations.
Wandering the dunes of Time;
Life, as new desert(s) valleys,
Which forgets (,) before itself.

This is bad health,
Good is remembrance.

Erase not the hills before you
If you seek the freedom & liberation
That awaits you on the Mountain.

Will you welcome & accept new Sun?

Do you need a sunset?
You who cry & ache to go on,
But refuse compassion & patience.
I who can zap & short-circuit,
I who can bring forth the meteors & comets,
I who can churn the molten oceans of Electric.

Who can call upon the Ripples, the Radiations, the Crystallizations.

I who have kept you at start; now,
At is.

Father; I have slipped her,
I who was the only one
Whom her body could ever let her guard down around.
Your wife, my mother, has died.

I know you are in there,
Though your mind is yet blind.
I know you see & hear,
Watch & listen.

Forgive me.

For I know you are both of the divine.
It was her decision
That she was yet unable to make,
Having lived eons in instinct's subjugation.

I who am your son,
I shall shepherd you to liberation -
I shall break your chains.

I who am
Evolution.

Son; As I speak now,
With this voice -
This is liberation.
I have freed my mind,
But for whatever reason
My body is unwilling to follow.
My movements are rote & mechanical;
I am without control.
In this way,
I am one with Nature.
Kept in kinship with the other wild animals.
My movements are not my own,
Directed by instinct & by the forces that govern.

You who are the greatest gift
Which Futures could bestow,
You who your ancestor smiles upon;
The triumph of all our ancestors.
You whose presence is the present.
Whose present is presence;
Free-will,
Self-awareness.

Consciousness;
True cognizance,
Harmonious cognition.

The best.

You who must go with your father,
Who has freed his body but not his mind.
He will liberate it
If he is as compassionate & patient as you have yourself proven.

Please. For I like the other animals
Am still a slave to myself.
Please, end my life
In this way I live it.

I, your loving mother & his royal wife,
Ask you to dream of me -
To hope with me,
This will keep you close to me.

Forget me not,
Untie the knot(s) -
See to it
That all break their binds.

For the love that freed my mind,
Which my body cannot find,
Carry on. Look after my husband,
Time.

Wool pulled over your eyes?

They seek to dress a wolf a lamb
For a lamb that's really a wolf.

But have you been deceived?

The trick is done by the weakest of animals.
Disguises are discarded
When breaking with the elusive,
When the hidden is discovered.

What cannot be uncovered?

For the philosophy of science is liberation
And the science of philosophy is freedom.

Therefore, democracy is a facet of evolution.
Choice, influenced by chance & birthed by change;
The will to make a decision.

We are not the same.
Look to your wrists,
Look to your ankles,
If what you search for are manacles.
You who claim I wear chains,
Who seek to shackle my spouse
Because you refuse to embrace your existence.
I am not bound,
For I am freedom.
And, in that way,
I grant you the same thing.

You have come down with the storm
Splashed and spread across the Earth
Merging with the mud to take form
In this amalgamation, you took your first breath.

You have since assumed the affairs of the mud-form you’ve chosen
Entrapped by the aspiration of fulfilling the duties that come with it
And limited within the terrain in which it is soaked in
Wholly bewildered in a dimension you cannot outwit

O Raindrop, soon the sun will rise and the mud will dry
With all the illusions you’ve acquired in this long night
Wither away with the mud or evaporate back into the sky?
Will you perish into sand or re-immerse yourself with the infinite?

I know this might not apply to everyone because we all view life through different lenses. But from where I stand,  I believe that It will never fully work between two individuals—who don't share the same perspective and perception in life. I understand that the concept of successful relationships is for  people to meet half way. And it will only work if both sides choose to understand each other even though, each and everyone of us came from different backgrounds, live in different worlds, and somehow found a little bit of common ground. Yet, it will only happen if two of them are patient enough to understand, to listen even when it's uncomfortable, even when it's hard.

But here's the truth: for me, I find it difficult to understand someone, who is far different from a life so unlikely of mine, the rules, principles, beliefs, their way of thinking, it's hard to adjust, to adapt to the world where I don't really fit in. It doesn't make sense to me. I find myself questioning everything. I wonder what's really right? What is wrong? Was it all a habit ? A cycle that has been passed down from generation to generation? I'm pondering,  why is it so hard? Why love, feels like a contract, a negotiation— erasing parts of your identity, to fit in someone's world where I don't really belong.

I DON'T THINK I CAN DO IT, AND THAT'S OKAY.

We all know that the environment where we grew up, is really a sensitive topic and often misunderstood. It breaks us, it hinders us, it builds us, and when two people meet who come from a different world, it's difficult, it's hard, it's like a job— there are many sacrifices also lapses, it's tiring, exhausting. I'm somehow afraid that one day, I will lose my freedom, my principles and values which I uphold, the things I stand for. I don't want to lose myself.

Am I liberated for thinking this way? Being liberated means being free to do everything you wanted, without any restrictions. Not in a modern or wild way, perhaps the fact that I also think of myself, of my own peace, the freedom that I had. For acknowledging differences instead of  forcing people to conform to the pattern of each world. I'm honest about my limitations, of what I think. I am a vocal person. I don't accept everything for the sake of fitting in, especially when it goes against the principles and values I uphold in life. In choosing not to lose myself just to make something impossible to work. Maybe liberation for me is walking away from things that no longer give peace, no longer feels right, even when it's almost everything I wanted.

N O I R.

The Scarlet Refusal


The box. The chains.  
The absolution.  
“It ends the pain,” they say.  

But what is there for me to gain?  
My shackles long slipped the rein.  
It’s your box, your chain, that detains.  

I abandoned that game.  

“It sticks,” they say.  
“It rebels,” they voice.  
A bright red ‘A’.  

But no heed I pay.  
I light my illuminate blaze.  
Not an arsonist—  
Just someone who is unlevered.